Danny meets an Old Friend for the Last Time (Part I).
It must have been in the summer of '71 or '72, for Sqn Ldr Ray Hanna had retired from the RAF in '71, and set up (with his son, I believe) as a sort of impresario for flying display acts. On this occasion Hanna had booked himself for an annual air show at Teeside that afternoon. He had positioned at Leeming late morning (I think we'd had the grace not to charge him a Landing Fee !); the idea was that he would take off after lunch with just enough time to comfortably meet his ETA at TD, perform and then return direct to base (wherever that was).
He was flying a Spitfire IX (Wiki tells me that it was MH434, owned by Sir Adrian Squire [Chairman of Cathay Pacific], for which Company Hanna flew). I do not know how many hours there were on this airframe, but to say that it was in showroom condition was an understatement. I had never seen a Spitfire "bulled-up" as was this one - it positively gleamed, there wasn't a scratch, or a dent, or a spot of oil or mud anywhere on it. Parked on the apron in front of the Tower, it had been admired by just about everyone on the Station who could get to see it.
OC (F) had wisely ordered that all (the Student Body above all) should keep their sticky fingers off this aircraft and in particular out of the cockpit. "Look - but don't touch" was the order of the day. But by the time I came out of the Tower for lunch, the crowd had dispersed and the Spit stood unmolested on the line. I went over to have a look for old time's sake.
I was standing about 20 feet away, arms folded, in a reverie, just letting old memories of my days on them flow over me, when the man himself came over from Flying Wing HQ, and eyed me keenly: "You used to fly them, didn't you ?"......"Yes, sir - 20 Squadron at Valley, 1951" ....."Like to hop in for a minute or two ? I want to see SATCO for a few minutes, but there's no hurry".
Give a donkey strawberries ! I was on the wing in a flash, pushed back the hood, and opened the side flap (why do all the display Spits have their "jemmys" painted red ? - we never did). He'd left his 'chute in the seat, I carefully folded the back over and on top of the seat cushion (for there were doggies about, and you never know), and gingerly climbed in.
The years melted away - thirty since I first timidly shoe-horned myself in, twenty since my last flight. It was if I'd never been away. I hooked my shoes into the top rungs of the "double-decker" rudder "stirrups" (an early idea to delay the onset of the effects of "G"), glanced down on the turnbuckle adjusters with their foot-operated star-wheels, which gave you for-and-aft rudder bar setting, and took the spade-grip (so much more comfortable to hold than any stick, whatever gubbins you may have on top). In the centre of the spade-grip the wheel brake lever fell under your fingertips as naturally as on a bike handlebar.
And above all, the articulated stick. It's so much nicer (and a must in a narrow cockpit !), and all you need is a sprocket and a bit of bike chain in the control column to connect with the elevator and aileron cable rods at the bottom. The compressed air lines that worked the wheel brakes and gun firing are flexible anyway. Throttle still had the "twist grip" for ranging the Gyro Computing Gunsight (are they still around ?), but I think the sight itself (and guns, of course) had been taken out. The little brass "Ki-gas" (hand-pump fuel injector into the manifold for a cold start) was still down on the right. The smooth white "bog-pull" handle still adorned the u/c lever. I noted with approval that there was plenty of compressed air in the tank.
Everything else was exactly as I remembered it (except possibly the R/T set). It even smelt just as before ! Ray Hanna and I must have been much the same size, for his rudder reach and seat height settings suited me perfectly - I was in the hunched attitude of a racing jockey - which is exactly as we were trained for air combat. In day-to-day A-B flying (eg transporting 3-tonner brake drums !) you'd relax with your feet in the lower stirrups.
Of course the IX and the XVI are identical twins; if you don't know the A/F number prefixes, the only way you can tell them apart is to take off an engine panel. If the long alloy camcovers bear a proud ROLLS ROYCE, you have a IX. If they're blank, it's a XVI (Merlin Mk.266), (and you might expect "GMC" or "PACKARD", but the Americans had deliberately left their names off - a graceful gesture of self-abnegation which was always quietly appreciated).
All in all the Spitfire cockpit was a masterpiece of ergonomics. Clearly, pilots had had a large hand in the design. Everything came naturally to hand. With all other aircraft I flew, it was a question of sitting "on" or sitting "in" them: is no accident that so many old spitfire men liken it to "putting on a glove" - for that was exactly what it felt like - putting on an old and comfortable glove. And when you had also a tolerant and vice-free aircraft which flew beautifully, who would ever want anything else ?
I climbed out, carefully rearranged the 'chute seat back, closed the flap and the hood, and jumped down (I was never to touch a Spit again from that day to this). "I'll come in to SATCO with you, if I may, sir", I added to my thanks. "I'll be the ATC Supervisor this afternoon - I presume it's about your display ?"...... "Then you're just the man I need to see", he said, "come along". Lunch would be rather late - if at all.
The rest will have to wait for a day or two. Goodnight, all.
Danny42C.
Memories, memories !